ANDREW HIGGINS2026年10月12日今年1月，时报记者安德鲁·希金斯乘车经过天安门广场。1989年6月，他曾亲历军队对抗议腐败、不平等和通货膨胀的民众展开武力镇压的现场。 It was an enjoyable day of temple and factory visits organized by China Daily, the Communist Party’s English-language mouthpiece, but it ended on an uncomfortable note.那是中共官方英文媒体《中国日报》组织的一次令人愉快的寺庙与工厂探访之旅，结尾却令人颇感不适。The group I was traveling with in the northern province of Shanxi — mostly foreign influencers hungry for followers and Chinese freebies — was told to line up behind a long banner and be filmed chanting: “Amazing China, Amazing Shanxi.”与我一同前往北方省份山西的这群人主要是渴望粉丝和免费福利的外国网红，他们被要求在一条长横幅后排开，并对着镜头合唱：“Amazing China, Amazing Shanxi”（大美中国，大美山西）。I declined to join in, scowling in silence. But, back in my hotel room in the provincial capital of Taiyuan, I felt I had perhaps been too churlish: Getting a bunch of foreigners to chant on cue for the camera about China’s wonders was a transparent but harmless propaganda stunt.我拒绝配合，面带不悦地冷眼旁观。不过，回到省会太原的酒店房间后，我又觉得自己的态度或许过于生硬了：让一群外国人对着镜头按指令合唱对中国奇迹的赞歌，不过是个显而易见却也无害的宣传把戏而已。And, to be honest, the 11th century temples we visited — and also the new highway that took us to them — were pretty amazing.况且说实话，我们参观的11世纪古刹——以及把我们送到那里的新建高速公路——确实相当惊人。Then I received a message on WeChat, a Chinese messaging app, from an old friend in Beijing, a lawyer whose earnest decency and movie star looks always reminded me of the “good party cadre” characters in propaganda films. I had not seen him for more than 30 years and was planning to visit the following day.随后，我的微信收到了一条来自北京一位老朋友的信息。他是一名律师，为人真诚得体，长相如明星般英俊，总让我想起宣传电影里那些“优秀党员干部”形象。我已有30多年没见过他，本计划第二天去拜访他。Sadly, his message said, he would not be able to keep our appointment because state security officers, somehow apprised of our plans, had turned up at his door and ordered him to cancel.遗憾的是，他在信息中说自己无法赴约了，因为国家安全官员不知通过什么渠道获悉了我们的行程，直接找上了他的家门，命令他取消见面的计划。China suddenly appeared not so much amazing as alarming.一瞬间，中国带给我的不再是惊艳，而是惊恐。After decades away from the country where I studied classical Chinese in 1980-81 and then worked as a journalist from 1987 until 1991, I returned in September last year for a six-month assignment. I marveled at how much had changed, sharing the amazement of first-time visitors awe-struck by China’s high-speed trains, dazzling modern cities and gung-ho embrace of the future.我曾于1980至1981年间在中国学习古汉语，后于1987年至1991年担任驻华记者。在离开这个国家数十年后，我于去年9月返回中国执行为期六个月的报道任务。我惊叹于这里的巨变，和那些初次踏足这片土地的游客一样，我被中国的高铁网络、耀眼的现代都市以及对未来的热切拥抱所震撼。1981年，戴着围巾的希金斯在山东大学食堂。当时，食堂只供应油乎乎的粥和馒头，粥里漂着几块不知是什么的肉。My old friend’s message broke the reverie:然而，我这位老友发来的消息打碎了这份美好：“Every bush and tree seems like an enemy soldier,” he warned, using a Chinese idiom to describe the paranoia of a security apparatus that has also changed dramatically. It has grown bigger, more intrusive and, thanks to high-tech marvels like WeChat and omnipresent surveillance cameras, much more capable of monitoring just about everyone.“草木皆兵，”他用这句中国成语提醒我，道出了如今安全机器的极度疑神疑鬼——这套机构自身同样经历了剧烈变化。它现在规模更大、侵入性更强；借助微信及无处不在的监控摄像头等高科技手段，它具备了对几乎所有人实施全天候监控的能力。China’s economic transformation over the last four decades has been extraordinary, and it infuriates Chinese officials that Western media outlets display what they see as “anti-China bias.” That is shorthand for reporting that dwells on anxiety about the economy, still growing but at a slower pace, and anything else that deviates from China’s undeniable achievements and charms.过去40年来，中国的经济转型无疑是卓越的，而西方媒体展现出的所谓“反华偏见“令中国官员极为恼火。所谓“反华偏见“，指的是那些着重渲染中国经济焦虑的报道——尽管中国经济仍在增长，但增速放缓——以及任何与中国无可否认的成就和魅力相悖的内容。Throughout my stay, I struggled to reconcile the reality of a country that has never been richer and seemingly full of promise with a parallel reality of brittle insecurity, in which every bush and tree hides a potential enemy.在华停留期间，我一直在试图调和这种撕裂感：一方面，这个国家从未如此富裕，似乎充满希望；另一方面，它又存在着一种脆弱的安全感缺失，仿佛每一株草木背后都潜伏着未知的敌人。Based in Shanghai, I often went on weekends with my wife to a park in the city’s northern Hongkou district, where groups of older Chinese gather to sing songs from their youth. Their favorite numbers are patriotic anthems but the singers, who often included a Uyghur man dressed and made up to look like Charlie Chaplin, were there of their own accord.在上海期间，我和妻子经常在周末前往该市北部的虹口公园。那里聚集着许多中老年人，他们自发凑在一起演唱年轻时代的歌曲。他们最爱唱的是爱国歌曲——经常能看到其中有一位装扮成查理·卓别林的维吾尔族男子——但完全是出于自愿参与其中。Their boisterous camaraderie and national pride seemed entirely genuine.他们欢聚的热烈氛围与国家自豪感看起来完全出自真心。An official sign nearby, however, clouded the carefree mood: “Opposing Traitors and Guarding Against Spies Starts With Us,” it warned, with a phone number to “report espionage activity.”然而，附近挂着的一块官方告示牌却为这种无忧无虑的氛围蒙上了阴影，牌子上警告道：“反间防谍，从我做起，”并附上了“举报间谍行为”的电话号码。The hunt for spies has escalated sharply since Xi Jinping took power in 2012 and began throttling the flow of information in and out of China, building up the Great Firewall to prevent Chinese from viewing many foreign websites.自习近平于2012年执政并开始收紧跨境信息流动、修筑防火长城以阻断国内民众访问众多外国网站以来，针对间谍行为的打击急剧升级。There are seemingly no limits on what the state can see and hear, and ordinary Chinese have adapted accordingly — most noticeably with regard to the leader himself.国家的监控范围似乎辽阔无边，普通民众也相应地作出了调适——最明显的莫过于对待最高领导人本人的态度。北京一条繁华步行街上的摄像头。国家能够看到和听到什么似乎已不受任何限制。 Mr. Xi is everywhere, on television, on billboards and on the front pages of newspapers and websites. But, throughout my stay in China, not one of the hundreds of Chinese I spoke to, mostly in private, ever uttered his name out loud. Even foreigners often avoided it, pointing at the ceiling when they wanted to refer to China’s president.习近平的身影无处不在，电视上、广告牌上、报纸和网站的头版上都有他。然而，在我停留中国期间私下接触的数百名中国人中，没有一个人敢大声念出他的名字。甚至连外国人也往往避开提及，当想指代中国国家主席时，他们只是用手指指天花板。The Chinese people whom I met on my travels invariably skirted politics, except when I encountered a zealous patriot during a visit to Dazhai, a former Maoist model commune in a remote mountain area of Shanxi. “Which is better, China or America? Tell the truth!” he shouted, in between praise of China’s leadership and ridicule of the United States and Europe.我在行程中接触到的中国人无一例外地避谈政治，只有一次例外：在访问山西偏远山区一处毛泽东时代示范公社大寨时，我遇到了一位狂热的爱国者。“到底是中国好还是美国好？说实话！”他在赞美中国领导层、嘲弄美欧之余，对我大声嚷嚷道。Nobody voiced open political dissent but many grumbled about the economy, particularly in places like Hainan Island where a runaway property boom has ground to a halt. A retiree from Shandong who had spent all his savings and borrowed money to buy a Hainan apartment that later lost more than a third of its value told me his much younger wife, his second, was threatening to leave him because he had fallen deeply into debt.没有人公开发表政治异见，但对经济的不满却比比皆是，尤其是在海南岛这样狂热的房地产热潮猝然停滞的地方。一位来自山东的退休老人倾尽毕生积蓄并举债在海南买了一套房子，随后该房产贬值了三分之一以上。他告诉我，他那年轻得多的第二任妻子正以他背负重债为由威胁要与他离婚。海南岛一片空置的高层建筑群正等待拆除，摄于今年1月。About the closest anyone came to openly challenging the authorities was in Shanghai when I met an out-of-town party member and his daughter outside a museum celebrating early revolutionaries.在上海一座纪念早期革命者的博物馆门外，我遇到了一位来自外地的党员和他的女儿。当时发生的大概是我遇到的最接近公开挑战当局的情况了。Pushed and insulted by police officers when he started to video the entrance, which they said was forbidden, he frothed with anger, cursing them as “hooligans in uniform.” When I asked him what was wrong, he replied, using a Mao-era mantra, that the party and its servants “should serve the people but often forget that.”当这位党员试图拍摄博物馆入口时，警察称该行为是被禁止的，并对他进行了推搡和斥责。他气得口吐飞沫，咒骂警察是“穿制服的流氓”。当我问他发生了什么时，他借用毛泽东时代的口号回答道，党和官员“本该为人民服务，但他们往往忘了这点”。His daughter, aware of the surveillance cameras planted on the narrow street, told him to shut up.他的女儿注意到了狭窄街道上密布的监控摄像头，急忙喝止他不要再说了。On the 150-yard walk from my Shanghai apartment in a gleaming new tower overlooking Suzhou Creek to the nearest subway, I counted more than 30 cameras trained on pedestrians. There is also a security check at the station, where guards, unfailingly polite, put all passengers’ bags through a scanner. Behind them was a cabinet stuffed with black batons, helmets and other riot control gear. Next to an ad for high-end dog food, a propaganda poster demanded vigilance against unspecified threats.从我在苏州河畔闪亮的新建高楼里的公寓步行到最近的地铁站，短短一百多米的距离内，我数出了30多个正对着行人的摄像头。地铁站内还设有安检，态度极其礼貌的安检员要求所有乘客将包袋放进扫描仪。在他们身后，摆放着一个塞满黑色警棍、头盔和其他防暴装备的器材柜。一则高端狗粮广告的旁边贴着一张宣传海报，要求警惕未指明的安全威胁。Vigilance against supposed spies in China has cursed foreign journalists looking for information, no matter how anodyne, for many decades.对所谓间谍的高度警惕几十年来一直像咒语一样困扰着试图获取信息的外国记者，哪怕这些信息极其寻常。When I worked there as a journalist in the 1980s, communism was crumbling next door in the Soviet Union and restlessness over corruption and one-party rule led to huge protests in Tiananmen Square. The party’s account of events after a bloody crackdown routinely accused foreign journalists of spreading “bourgeois liberalism” and stoking “counterrevolutionary turmoil.” Two American reporters were expelled for “obtaining state secrets through illegal means.”1980年代我担任驻华记者时，邻国苏联的共产主义体制正走向崩溃，对腐败和一党统治的不满引发了天安门广场的大规模抗议。在流血镇压发生后，官方对事件的报道例行公事地指责外国记者传播“资产阶级自由化”并煽动“反革命暴乱”。两名美国记者因“通过非法手段获取国家秘密”而被驱逐出境。John Burns, the veteran New York Times foreign correspondent, who died in March, was arrested in China in 1986 and charged with espionage after embarking on long motorcycle trip through the hinterland. The charges were later dropped and he was deported.今年3月去世的《纽约时报》资深战地记者约翰·伯恩斯曾于1986年在骑行穿越中国腹地时被捕，并被指控犯有间谍罪。这些指控后来被撤销，他随后被驱逐出境。I was expelled from China in 1991 after obtaining Communist Party internal documents marked top secret and detailing a crackdown on groups accused of fomenting “splittist” sentiment — party code for cultural self-awareness — among ethnic Mongolians in the Chinese region of Inner Mongolia.我本人则因获取了标记为绝密的中共内部文件于1991年被驱逐出中国。这份文件详细记录了针对被控在内蒙古自治区蒙古族人中煽动“分裂主义”情绪——官方对文化自我意识的隐语——的团体进行的镇压。希金斯走进天安门广场附近北京饭店外的一条地下通道。Back then, reporters were followed by furtive men who carried satchels fitted with cameras. The watchers are still there, now equipped with cellphone cameras and smart glasses.在那个时代，跟踪记者的是一些神秘人员，手上拿着内藏相机的挎包。如今，监视者依然存在，只是换上了智能手机摄像头和智能眼镜。In Dazhai, the former Maoist commune, a photographer and I were followed throughout on foot and by cars crammed with blank-faced men. In Hainan, a man followed us from the street to a sunny beach where we had decided to take a break. Pretending to talk into his cellphone, he kept its camera turned in our direction as we moved around. But the bulk of the surveillance these days is done by A.I.-powered systems that alert security agencies to communication involving people considered potential troublemakers — like foreign journalists.在那座毛泽东时代的公社大寨，我和一名摄影师全程被步行和乘车的一些面无表情的男子跟踪。在海南，一名男子从街头一直跟踪我们到阳光明媚的沙滩。在我们活动时，他假装在打电话，却始终将摄像头对准我们的方向。不过如今，绝大部分监控工作已交由人工智能驱动的系统完成，该系统会自动对涉及外国记者等潜在“麻烦制造者”的通讯发出预警。WeChat and other apps available in China promise privacy, and most Chinese value the convenience they offer. But the apps are required by cybersecurity and other laws to share user data with the Chinese authorities. This facilitates snooping that, at least to many foreign journalists, smacks of digital dystopia.微信及在中国使用的其他应用软件承诺保护隐私，大多数中国人也十分青睐其带来的便利。然而，网络安全法等法律规定，这些应用必须与中国当局共享用户数据。这使得针对个人的监控变得极为便利，在许多外国记者眼中，这种体验充满了数字反乌托邦色彩。Quickly realizing that any communication over WeChat risked putting old friends in the cross hairs of the security apparatus, I avoided contacting them. But one friend — the daughter of a former senior official, who was on a business trip back to China after years abroad — got in touch.在迅速意识到通过微信进行的任何联络都可能将老朋友置于安全机构的监视之下后，我选择避免与他们联系。但有一位朋友主动与我取得了联系，她是一名前高级官员的女儿，在海外生活多年后因公回国。When we met for lunch in Shanghai, we reminisced about the 1980s and friends we had in common, nearly all of whom now live outside China. She raved about “Blossoms Shanghai,” a lush, 30-episode television series suffused with nostalgia for China’s roaring ’90s, a period of explosive economic growth and relative openness as the Communist Party relaxed the suffocating grip it imposed after the 1989 Tiananmen massacre.当我们在上海共进午餐时，我们叙旧回忆起了1980年代和共同的朋友，他们中几乎所有人如今都生活在海外。她对电视剧《繁花》赞不绝口。这部30集的精致剧集充满了对中国蓬勃发展的90年代的怀旧情绪，那是一个经济飞速增长、社会相对开放的时期，当时中共放松了在1989年天安门事件后实施的严酷管制。We entirely avoided the political gossip that used to figure in our conversations. The food was excellent.我们完全避开了过去谈话中常出现的政治小道消息。午餐的菜肴非常美味。When I first went to China as a student, I lived in Jinan, an eastern center for state-owned heavy industry that reeked of coal. The city was still recovering from Mao’s Cultural Revolution, a decade of political turmoil that ended in 1976.当我以学生身份第一次来到中国时，住在东部重工业中心济南，那是一座空气中弥漫着煤烟味的城市。当时，这座城市仍处于从1976年结束的十年政治动荡——毛泽东发起的“文化大革命”中复苏的阶段。The economy was a wreck. Rice, cloth and even matches were in such short supply they could be bought only with ration coupons. The canteen at Shandong University, where I studied, served only greasy gruel with bits of mystery meat and steamed buns.当时的经济一片凋敝。大米、布匹甚至火柴都极度短缺，只有凭票才能购买。我就读的山东大学食堂只供应油乎乎的粥和馒头，稀饭里漂着几块不知是什么的肉。山东大学洪家楼校区的大门。1980年至1981年，希金斯曾在这里学习中文。如今，校园被保安严密把守，四处都是监控摄像头。Time magazine had just named Deng Xiaoping, the supreme leader at the time, its “man of the year,” hailing his “visions of a new China.”《时代》周刊刚刚将当时的最高领导人邓小平评选为“年度风云人物”，盛赞他对“一个新中国的构想”。Deng was clear that the party would remain in control, but his path for China’s future was deliberately tentative. It was called “crossing the river by feeling the stones,” an admission of uncertainty that filled my university with excited debate about how to reach the ultimate goal — a China “rich and strong.”邓小平明确表示党将牢牢掌握控制权，但他为中国未来设计的道路刻意保持着试探性。这被称为“摸着石头过河”，这种对不确定性的坦承，让我的大学校园里充满了关于如何实现“富强”中国这一终极目标的热烈讨论。Mr. Xi has embraced the same goal but has replaced Deng’s invitation to “feel for stones” with dogmatic certainty. The country is exhorted to show “unswerving loyalty” to Xi Jinping Thought, his blueprint for a “new era” with no room for debate.习近平继承了这一终极目标，却用教条式的确定性取代了邓小平“摸着石头过河”的倡议。全国上下被要求对习近平思想——他为“新时代”制定的蓝图——表现出“坚定不移的忠诚“，不容置疑。The campus of Shandong University, open in my student days to the public, is now, like other college grounds in China, sealed off by security guards and studded with surveillance cameras.在我求学时代，山东大学校园是向社会开放的，如今这里跟中国的其他高校一样，校园被保安严密把守，四处都是监控摄像头。One of the few buildings near the campus still standing from when I was a student is a huge, German-built Roman Catholic church, which had been converted into a storeroom and workshop. Lavishly renovated since, the church is now again used for religious services, though these are restricted to Christians willing to register and show their passports or ID cards.校园附近有几座从我学生时代保留至今的建筑，其中包括一座由德国人建造的宏伟天主教堂，当年曾被改作仓库和厂房。后来，这座教堂经过大规模翻修，如今重新用于宗教活动，但只有愿意登记并出示护照或身份证的基督徒才能参加。济南的天主堂由德国人于一个多世纪前修建，如今重新用于宗教活动，但受到严密监控。When I first traveled by train to Jinan from Beijing, the journey took all night. It now takes under two hours. Jinan’s main railway station, a grand Art Nouveau building in the center of town built by Germans at the start of the 20th century, has been torn down, replaced by a hyper-modern structure on the outskirts.我第一次从北京坐火车去济南时，花了整整一夜。现在只需要不到两小时。济南曾经的主要火车站是20世纪初德国人在市中心建造的一座宏伟的新艺术风格建筑，现已被拆除，取而代之的是位于郊区的一座超现代建筑。I ran into a former classmate whom I remembered as having been something of a maverick. Now a businessman in Shanghai selling private planes, he reminisced about a time when everything was still open to discussion, except the authority of the Communist Party.我偶遇了一位老同学。记忆中，他曾是个颇为特立独行的人。如今，他在上海经商，销售私人飞机。他怀念那个除了共产党的权威之外一切都还可以公开讨论的年代。Having to constantly bite one’s tongue, he said, was a modest, if regrettable, price to pay for China’s many other changes for the better.他说，不得不时时管住自己的嘴，虽然令人遗憾，但与中国在其他许多方面发生的积极变化相比，代价不算大。In Jinan, I visited the grave of the man I had often sought out as a student for his intimate knowledge of China’s now muffled past. I knew him as “Lao Wen” but his real name was James Veneris, a former American soldier who, after being taken prisoner by Chinese troops during the 1950-53 Korean War, had opted to stay with his captors and been given a job in Jinan.在济南，我去拜谒了一个熟人的墓。学生时代，我经常去找他，因为他对中国那段如今已被压抑的历史有着切身的了解。我称他为“老温”，但他的真名是詹姆斯·温纳瑞斯。他曾是一名美国士兵，在1950年至1953年的朝鲜战争期间被中国军队俘虏后，选择留在俘虏他的人身边，后来被安排在济南工作。Branded an American spy during the Cultural Revolution, he lost his factory job and had been assigned to haul a street cart. His Chinese wife at the time — the second of three — divorced him under duress.文化大革命期间，他被打成美国间谍，失去了工厂的工作，被派去拉板车。他当时的中国妻子——他三任妻子中的第二任——迫于压力与他离了婚。When I got to know him in 1980, he had just been rehabilitated. He had a new wife and a new job teaching English at the university. Eager to avoid getting in trouble again, he plastered his campus apartment with portraits of Mao and Hua Guofeng, the new Communist Party chairman after Mao’s death.当我在1980年认识他时，他刚刚获得平反。他有了新妻子，并在大学里找到了一份教英语的新工作。为了避免再卷入麻烦，他在校园的公寓里贴满了毛泽东和华国锋的画像。华国锋是毛泽东去世后接任的中共中央主席。He was alarmed when I told him that Hua’s portraits had suddenly disappeared from my lecture hall, a sure sign that he, too, had been purged.当我告诉他，华国锋像突然从我的教室里消失时，他大为惊恐——这是华国锋也已被清洗的明确信号。“It’s all so damn confusing,” he groaned. Lao Wen died in Jinan in 2001.“这一切真他妈的让人摸不着头脑，”他叹道。老温于2001年在济南去世。詹姆斯·温纳瑞斯的墓碑。这名美国士兵在朝鲜战争结束后选择留在中国，2001年在济南去世。His marble tombstone, paid for by his son, who moved to America, is in a serene new cemetery on the outskirts of Jinan. A gold inscription in English says he had not died, “just disappeared.” A Chinese inscription on the reverse side remembers him as an “American who loved peace, loved life and loved the people of China.”他的儿子移居美国后，出资为他修建了一块大理石墓碑，墓地位于济南郊外一处宁静的新公墓。墓碑上的金色英文铭文写道，他并未离去，“只是消失了”。背面的中文铭文则称他是一位“热爱和平、热爱生活、热爱中国人民的美国人”。His many travails are passed over in silence.至于他生前遭遇的种种磨难，只字未提。The silence that engulfs so much of China’s past reaches a sinister crescendo in Tiananmen Square, which I had last visited on the night of June 3-4, 1989, when soldiers seized it back from protesting students amid a hail of gunfire.笼罩着中国诸多过去的沉默在天安门广场达到了令人胆寒的高潮。我上一次来到这里，是在1989年6月3日深夜至4日清晨，当时军队大肆开枪，从抗议学生手中强行夺回了广场。By the time I left Beijing in 1991, roads around Tiananmen had all been repaved to remove traces of tank tracks. The square had again become a public space filled with people flying kites and playing with their children.到1991年我离开北京时，天安门周围的道路都已重新铺设，抹去了坦克履带留下的痕迹。广场重新变回了公共空间，满是放风筝和带着孩子玩耍的民众。Today, the Chinese capital’s main public square is no longer a place to relax like Red Square in Moscow or Trafalgar Square in London, but a by-appointment-only dead zone. Kites are banned without a permit. All visitors, mostly Chinese from the provinces, are carefully screened.如今，这座中国首都的核心公共广场不再是像莫斯科红场或伦敦特拉法加广场那样令人放松的去处，而变成了一个仅限预约的死寂之地。未经许可严禁放风筝。所有访客——主要是来自外省的国内游客——都必须接受严格审查。Before my wife and I could visit in January, we had to apply for permission via WeChat. Once approved, we waited in line for two hours, showing our passports and computer-generated permission notification at three separate checkpoints with airport-style security.在今年1月前往游览之前，我和妻子必须提前通过微信提交申请。获得批准后，我们在三个配备了机场级安检设施的检查站排队等待了两个小时，出示护照和电子预约通知。At the final check, a guard pounced on a pen carried by my wife, insisting it contained red ink, which she said was prohibited. She did not say why, but during the 1989 student protests several people hurled red paint at a famous portrait of Mao that faces the square. A security supervisor finally let us through after writing with the pen on a piece of paper and seeing that it was brown, not red.在最后一道检查关口，一名安检员盯上了我妻子携带的一支笔，坚称笔芯装有红墨水，而红墨水是被禁止带入的。她没有解释原因，但在1989年学生抗议期间，曾有人向面向广场的那幅著名的毛泽东画像泼洒红色油漆。安检主管最终拿这支笔在纸上试写，确认墨水是褐色而非红色后，才放我们通行。Now out of China, I often wonder: How can it be that a proud, nuclear-armed world power is scared of red ink?如今离开中国后，我常常感到困惑：一个自豪且拥有核武器的世界大国，究竟为何会害怕一支装有红墨水的笔？摄影：Gilles SabriéAndrew Higgins是时报东欧和中欧分社社长，常驻华沙。翻译：纽约时报中文网点击查看本文英文版。